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"There's not enough room in this forum for the two of us." FM slammed his emptied whisky glass down on the wooden counter. "Step outside, Grix......"
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Grix eyed FM carefully. They'd known each other for a long time, but things had been gettin' a little strained lately."
"What's this about, FM," he demanded, making his way through the packed but hushed saloon and pushing the swinging doors outwards as he stepped onto the dusty ground outside.
"Well," replied FM, pushing open the doors again and following Grix outside into the hot, dry air, "You've bushwhacked one of my topics just one time too many. It's time we had this out. Mano a Mano. Poster to Poster."
Grix paused in his stride to think of a witty retort about FM's last comment, then decided that now was probably not the time.
"So, what's it to be? 10 paces, turn and fire?" asked Grix, making sure his gunbelt was fastened properly.
"You know me better than that, Grix. 30 paces." FM checked his gunbelt. The Smith and Wesson 6-shot revolver hung loosely at his right hip.
They stood back to back under the glare of the midday sun, and started to count.....
1....2....3....
The occupants of the saloon were packing the windows trying to get a glimpse of the showdown outside. This was unheard of. The last shootout in the town of Last Chance Reserve had been quite a time ago, when the Er-no posse had cleaned out the Desperate Dans, but this was different. Two equally matched opponents were about to face off.
Insane Bartender was going even more nuts behind the saloon's counter because he was losing good sales whilst all this was going on.
Outside, the count was at 25.... as FM glanced to his right and saw PB on the roof of the Red Splat Hotel and Boarding House, shotgun at hand. PB nodded with a knowing look. FM nodded back.
The count was 26.... as Grix looked across to the SR Saddlery, where he spied Sniper with his trusty Winchester Rifle. Grix gave a brief nod. Sniper returned it.
27....28...29..
Dust whirled up as both men spun to face each other. The blast of PB's shotgun firing both barrels broke the deafening silence that preceeded it, and a cloud of sand flew up at Grix's feet as the buckshot ploughed into the ground.
Grix drew his gun and took aim, FM was still drawing his because he was left handed and his belt was on the wrong way, Sniper fired his rifle, and there was a sharp report, then a clatter as PB dropped his shotgun and swandived off the roof of the hotel and landed in a horse trough.
FM grappled with his pistol, it had snagged in the holster, and he reminded himself to be more careful where he left his chewing gum.
Grix took pity. (No he didn't). Grix fired his gun. Fortunately, FM and done his research and Grix's eyesight wasn't as good as it should have been, and at 30 paces it was like trying to read a Wanted Poster through a mirage. Grix's first bullet flew out of town faster than a newbie Gameaday winner. He wasn't sure if he had hit FM or not, but then he heard FM pull back the hammer of his Smith and Wesson with a
*click*
Page:
THE END
(stop the story before it gets to 200)
Ant and his warriors stopped for a break. Ant really didn't know where they were going, but The Staff seemed to lead him.
Ant looked at The Game, and noticed something...different about him. He looked closely into his eyes and there was something strange there, something....wrong.
Ant turned away, too tired to worry. He lay down, and began to try to get some sleep. Ant was nearly asleep, when suddenly, he had a sudden instinct to roll to the left. He did so, and he suddenly saw a sword strike the ground where he had been. It was The Game!
Ant got up, drew his own sword (which the Indian had given to him), and slashed at The Game. The Game ducked, and went low. Ant blocked the shot, and struck at The Game's head. The Game fell over trying to dodge it, and Ant struck down with all his might. The Game rolled to the left, picked up a stone, and threw it Ant. It hit Ant in the left eye, and Ant bent over in pain. The Game went for the final hit, when he was taken down by another warrior, who proccedded to pummel him non-stop.
Ant thanked the warrior, and told him to get off the nearly-unconscious Game.
Ant looked closely at The Game, bent down, and pulled of the mask. The Game wasn't The Game, he was really..RastaBillySkank!!
"Rasta??" Ant spoke, unsure of what to say.
"Yes...i-i-it's me." Rasta said. "Remember me?? I-I was the owner of the Sugar Factory across the road from you."
"Yes, I remember. But how did you get to be turned into an Ant?"
"You INVITED me to your factory," Rasta said, with emphasis on the 'invited." You took me to your factory to talk about a 'business solution'."
"Yes, I wanted to-"
"Bullcrap!!" Rasta shouted, interrupting Ant. "You wanted me there, you were going to kill me! You were sick of having a rival sugar factory to deal with, so you decided to lead me into a trap, to kill me!"
"But I never-"
"I SAW THE PLANS!! I saw a piece of paper on the ground outside your factory, and on it said-ARRRRGGGGHHH!!!"
Rasta screamed out in pain as a warrior stabbed him in the back.
"Rasta!" Ant cried, but he was no more.
Ant turned to the warrior that had killed Rasta, "Why??" Was Ant's only word.
The warrior replied, saying, "They were my plans. I planned to kill him, and you too." He said with a sneer. "I am Dan2K1, your number two man. With you dead, then I would've ruled the sugar-making World!"
"Coolio Santos, now you will die, as you should've done a long time ago."
Dan2K1 knocked the sword out of Ant's hand, and swung. It was about to hit Ant's neck, when the Staff shot out of Ant's hand, and blocked it. Dan2K1 stared at the Staff, dis-belief in his eyes.
Them The Staff seemed to shake, and suddenly, "BOOOOM!!"
An amazing light shot out of the Staff, straight at Dan2K1.
Dan2K1 fell to the floor, a charred mess. The Staff returned to Ant's hand.
Ant leaned over Dan2K1, and said with incredible malice,
"See you in Hell."
Ant looked at The Game, and noticed something...different about him. He looked closely into his eyes and there was something strange there, something....wrong.
Ant turned away, too tired to worry. He lay down, and began to try to get some sleep. Ant was nearly asleep, when suddenly, he had a sudden instinct to roll to the left. He did so, and he suddenly saw a sword strike the ground where he had been. It was The Game!
Ant got up, drew his own sword (which the Indian had given to him), and slashed at The Game. The Game ducked, and went low. Ant blocked the shot, and struck at The Game's head. The Game fell over trying to dodge it, and Ant struck down with all his might. The Game rolled to the left, picked up a stone, and threw it Ant. It hit Ant in the left eye, and Ant bent over in pain. The Game went for the final hit, when he was taken down by another warrior, who proccedded to pummel him non-stop.
Ant thanked the warrior, and told him to get off the nearly-unconscious Game.
Ant looked closely at The Game, bent down, and pulled of the mask. The Game wasn't The Game, he was really..RastaBillySkank!!
"Rasta??" Ant spoke, unsure of what to say.
"Yes...i-i-it's me." Rasta said. "Remember me?? I-I was the owner of the Sugar Factory across the road from you."
"Yes, I remember. But how did you get to be turned into an Ant?"
"You INVITED me to your factory," Rasta said, with emphasis on the 'invited." You took me to your factory to talk about a 'business solution'."
"Yes, I wanted to-"
"Bullcrap!!" Rasta shouted, interrupting Ant. "You wanted me there, you were going to kill me! You were sick of having a rival sugar factory to deal with, so you decided to lead me into a trap, to kill me!"
"But I never-"
"I SAW THE PLANS!! I saw a piece of paper on the ground outside your factory, and on it said-ARRRRGGGGHHH!!!"
Rasta screamed out in pain as a warrior stabbed him in the back.
"Rasta!" Ant cried, but he was no more.
Ant turned to the warrior that had killed Rasta, "Why??" Was Ant's only word.
The warrior replied, saying, "They were my plans. I planned to kill him, and you too." He said with a sneer. "I am Dan2K1, your number two man. With you dead, then I would've ruled the sugar-making World!"
"Coolio Santos, now you will die, as you should've done a long time ago."
Dan2K1 knocked the sword out of Ant's hand, and swung. It was about to hit Ant's neck, when the Staff shot out of Ant's hand, and blocked it. Dan2K1 stared at the Staff, dis-belief in his eyes.
Them The Staff seemed to shake, and suddenly, "BOOOOM!!"
An amazing light shot out of the Staff, straight at Dan2K1.
Dan2K1 fell to the floor, a charred mess. The Staff returned to Ant's hand.
Ant leaned over Dan2K1, and said with incredible malice,
"See you in Hell."
FM held the item in his hands.
He could feel the presence of evil on it.
Holding it reminded him of his earlier encounter with the him. Something in his head was about to click, but there was still something missing, something from his past. If only he could remember.
He handed the item back to meka.
"So how exactly did you get hold o' that?" Aksed FM.
"Me first. Where the hell is Grix, who are these guys, and who does this belong to?" Asked meka, holding out the dog collar that FM had just passed back to him.
He could feel the presence of evil on it.
Holding it reminded him of his earlier encounter with the him. Something in his head was about to click, but there was still something missing, something from his past. If only he could remember.
He handed the item back to meka.
"So how exactly did you get hold o' that?" Aksed FM.
"Me first. Where the hell is Grix, who are these guys, and who does this belong to?" Asked meka, holding out the dog collar that FM had just passed back to him.
A bright fire burns in a cold wind... Grix thought this might have been deja vu, but settled on it just being a cliche instead.
"Grix." The stranger spoke.
"Yes?"
"Sometimes in dreams, things completely change, but everything continues as normal. Why should you care?"
Grix watched the stranger... talking like he was reading lines from a script... from an already written play...
"For example, you may be taking a hike in a volcano, when you find yourself in a jungle... it happens, but you are unlikely to notice..."
"In dreams?" Grix asked.
"Yes... things change. You'll never notice."
Grix thought about this... was he getting to a point here?
"But even if you do notice, why try and stop it?... Grix, can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"Could you live in a world that you knew would end tommorrow... if you could escape from it?"
Grix thought again. "It depends what you would have to do to escape..."
"What do you mean?"
"If the price for escape left me with bad thoughts on my mind for the rest of my life... I doubt I would be able to live with that."
The strange man thought to himself again.
-------------------
Night settled quickly. The stars, for the first time in at least four days, could be seen... not many dark clouds out tonight.
The stranger watched Grix as he slept... he placed the note on his sheet, and walked off into the sands.
He reached a point... not so far from Grix. Enough for him to see him... standing, at least.
The stranger took out his gun, and looked at it. The gun seemed so iconic now. A last hope to a bitter end. He just couldn't live with the fact... even if it was for just a few days.
He sat in the sand. The stars were beautiful toni... oh what was the point. They weren't beautiful. They weren't even there.
The stranger emptied the gun of all but one bullet.
It really had come to this. The strongest of the people... he once was admired, looked up to. He was an idol.
He looked down the gun barrel.
Why should that change? He was strong! He could survive.
The stranger played with the trigger... and pulled back the hammer. It fell in place, with a *click*.
He felt suprisingly calm, even though he was about to kill himself... but all his fear was long gone. Gone with the second he read that scroll... Living in bliss, and ignorance... much more important...
The stranger placed the gun next to his head...
His last thoughts before he pulled the trigger... were those of a better place.
...The gun jammed.
What? What was wrong with it?
He span the cylinder. The gun was fine!
He pulled back the hammer... and placed the gun agaisnt his head again.
He took a huge breath.
And pulled the trigger...
...It jammed again!
The man fired at the sand, and the bullet flew from the gun with a mighty bang.
----------------
Grix woke with a jump... and noticed the note on his bed. His eye's adjusted to the light... and he read it.
"Never try and control your imagination... or one day, it may control you. Tell Meka I miss him."
Grix jumped from his bed... and looked around... The stranger was sitting in the sand, with his head between his knees. A gun lay several metres from him, as if it had been thrown.
Grix walked up to him.
"You really need to tell me what's going on now... Jake. If I can call you that now."
Jake Dragon stared with his old eyes up at Grix... "You make more sense than you intend to..." He smiled... "I've got no choice after all..."
"Grix." The stranger spoke.
"Yes?"
"Sometimes in dreams, things completely change, but everything continues as normal. Why should you care?"
Grix watched the stranger... talking like he was reading lines from a script... from an already written play...
"For example, you may be taking a hike in a volcano, when you find yourself in a jungle... it happens, but you are unlikely to notice..."
"In dreams?" Grix asked.
"Yes... things change. You'll never notice."
Grix thought about this... was he getting to a point here?
"But even if you do notice, why try and stop it?... Grix, can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"Could you live in a world that you knew would end tommorrow... if you could escape from it?"
Grix thought again. "It depends what you would have to do to escape..."
"What do you mean?"
"If the price for escape left me with bad thoughts on my mind for the rest of my life... I doubt I would be able to live with that."
The strange man thought to himself again.
-------------------
Night settled quickly. The stars, for the first time in at least four days, could be seen... not many dark clouds out tonight.
The stranger watched Grix as he slept... he placed the note on his sheet, and walked off into the sands.
He reached a point... not so far from Grix. Enough for him to see him... standing, at least.
The stranger took out his gun, and looked at it. The gun seemed so iconic now. A last hope to a bitter end. He just couldn't live with the fact... even if it was for just a few days.
He sat in the sand. The stars were beautiful toni... oh what was the point. They weren't beautiful. They weren't even there.
The stranger emptied the gun of all but one bullet.
It really had come to this. The strongest of the people... he once was admired, looked up to. He was an idol.
He looked down the gun barrel.
Why should that change? He was strong! He could survive.
The stranger played with the trigger... and pulled back the hammer. It fell in place, with a *click*.
He felt suprisingly calm, even though he was about to kill himself... but all his fear was long gone. Gone with the second he read that scroll... Living in bliss, and ignorance... much more important...
The stranger placed the gun next to his head...
His last thoughts before he pulled the trigger... were those of a better place.
...The gun jammed.
What? What was wrong with it?
He span the cylinder. The gun was fine!
He pulled back the hammer... and placed the gun agaisnt his head again.
He took a huge breath.
And pulled the trigger...
...It jammed again!
The man fired at the sand, and the bullet flew from the gun with a mighty bang.
----------------
Grix woke with a jump... and noticed the note on his bed. His eye's adjusted to the light... and he read it.
"Never try and control your imagination... or one day, it may control you. Tell Meka I miss him."
Grix jumped from his bed... and looked around... The stranger was sitting in the sand, with his head between his knees. A gun lay several metres from him, as if it had been thrown.
Grix walked up to him.
"You really need to tell me what's going on now... Jake. If I can call you that now."
Jake Dragon stared with his old eyes up at Grix... "You make more sense than you intend to..." He smiled... "I've got no choice after all..."
FM, pb and Venombyte stood by a barn, taking turns to look round the corner.
"Crap, Sheriff Meka seems to be on our tail again." Said pb.
Venombyte looked down at his gun, he could use it, but he seemed to have no strength to lift it whatsoever.
FM was strangely silent.
"He seems to have something in his hand, I can't quite make out what it is?" Said pb, squinting his eyes, trying to make out what it was that meka had in his hands.
"We realy don't want to be getting arrested, we got business to take care of" said Venombyte, but was still unable to raise his gun.
He looked round to see FM staring at the gun, almost willing it to stay down.
"FM, I know you're in there, and i know there are others too. But i'm willing to forget what has gone before for now. There's some crazy shtuff goin' on in this town, and I got a feelin' you might have some answers."
Meka got down from his hover-hoss, and held out the object in his hands "And maybe I got a few answers for you...."
"Crap, Sheriff Meka seems to be on our tail again." Said pb.
Venombyte looked down at his gun, he could use it, but he seemed to have no strength to lift it whatsoever.
FM was strangely silent.
"He seems to have something in his hand, I can't quite make out what it is?" Said pb, squinting his eyes, trying to make out what it was that meka had in his hands.
"We realy don't want to be getting arrested, we got business to take care of" said Venombyte, but was still unable to raise his gun.
He looked round to see FM staring at the gun, almost willing it to stay down.
"FM, I know you're in there, and i know there are others too. But i'm willing to forget what has gone before for now. There's some crazy shtuff goin' on in this town, and I got a feelin' you might have some answers."
Meka got down from his hover-hoss, and held out the object in his hands "And maybe I got a few answers for you...."
The stranger sat in the sand... and watched over the town.
He watched a little girl playing with a doll... she seemed happy enough. It was just a doll, a small toy, but it made her happy, and that was all that mattered...
Was it?
The girl noticed the stranger sitting in the sand. She walked up to him, and sat next to him.
She played with her doll in the sand, saying nothing to the stranger...
The stranger asked her, "Is that your doll?"
"Yes." She said... and went back to playing.
How could he end a childhood so quickly?
"Who gave you that doll?"
The girl thought for a while...
"I found it... in the sand."
The stranger looked at the doll... it was as if it was brand new... it wasn't scratched, no markings on it. It was perfect.
"Is that your only toy?"
The girl thought again... she never looked up when she talked to the stranger.
"Yes."
"Do you love your doll?"
The girl had an immediate answer to this...
"I don't know."
And then it hit him... although he was once married, and had once beared a child... he couldn't ever remember...
"Do you love your parents?"
"I don't know."
The stranger looked away again... the girl had a scar on her leg.
"Where did you get that scar?"
The girl kept playing in the sand... "I cut myself when I fell."
The stranger looked at the scar, it was pretty big.
"Did it hurt?"
"I don't know."
The preacher sighed... no wonder he found it so easy to bury Grix alive...
"It's been nice talking to you." He said to the girl. "But I've got to go now..."
"Ok. Bye bye."
He got up... and headed back to the graveyard, carrying his spade.
--------------------
"Hey?... you alright?"
Grix's eyes adjusted... the darkness of the skies helped... it could be day or night mind, and it still would be dark.
The stranger stood over him.
"You sod! You tried to kill me!" Grix got up... "Why the hell did you do that?"
The stranger held out his hand in defence... "I know how strange this may sound... but I can't tell you. All I can say is that I had a good reason... But it doesn't apply anymore, and it's for the best of... our world... if you live."
It wasn't long before Grix forgave the stranger... walking along the desert.
Time was passing quickly now. The sand was at it's darkest yet, and the rain was causing rivers to flood and crops to ruin.
Time was getting close.
He watched a little girl playing with a doll... she seemed happy enough. It was just a doll, a small toy, but it made her happy, and that was all that mattered...
Was it?
The girl noticed the stranger sitting in the sand. She walked up to him, and sat next to him.
She played with her doll in the sand, saying nothing to the stranger...
The stranger asked her, "Is that your doll?"
"Yes." She said... and went back to playing.
How could he end a childhood so quickly?
"Who gave you that doll?"
The girl thought for a while...
"I found it... in the sand."
The stranger looked at the doll... it was as if it was brand new... it wasn't scratched, no markings on it. It was perfect.
"Is that your only toy?"
The girl thought again... she never looked up when she talked to the stranger.
"Yes."
"Do you love your doll?"
The girl had an immediate answer to this...
"I don't know."
And then it hit him... although he was once married, and had once beared a child... he couldn't ever remember...
"Do you love your parents?"
"I don't know."
The stranger looked away again... the girl had a scar on her leg.
"Where did you get that scar?"
The girl kept playing in the sand... "I cut myself when I fell."
The stranger looked at the scar, it was pretty big.
"Did it hurt?"
"I don't know."
The preacher sighed... no wonder he found it so easy to bury Grix alive...
"It's been nice talking to you." He said to the girl. "But I've got to go now..."
"Ok. Bye bye."
He got up... and headed back to the graveyard, carrying his spade.
--------------------
"Hey?... you alright?"
Grix's eyes adjusted... the darkness of the skies helped... it could be day or night mind, and it still would be dark.
The stranger stood over him.
"You sod! You tried to kill me!" Grix got up... "Why the hell did you do that?"
The stranger held out his hand in defence... "I know how strange this may sound... but I can't tell you. All I can say is that I had a good reason... But it doesn't apply anymore, and it's for the best of... our world... if you live."
It wasn't long before Grix forgave the stranger... walking along the desert.
Time was passing quickly now. The sand was at it's darkest yet, and the rain was causing rivers to flood and crops to ruin.
Time was getting close.
Mouldy Cheese is chased away.
Again.
Again.
Ignoring all the other posts, Sniper is shot by Joanna Dark. He dies again.
...Sheriff Jake Dragon.
"Is this him?" Asked Grix.
"This grave is empty." Said the Stranger. "There is nothing down there..."
He stranger bent down and felt the sand covering the grave... rather a light colour...
"There WAS nothing down there... Dig it up."
Twenty minutes later, the grave was dug up. Grix pryed open the coffin... to find...
"Nothing."
The stranger looked inside.
"And there STILL is nothing down there. Just checking."
Grix looked at the stranger... not as infalible as he thought, after all.
---------------------
There were thousands of graves in the graveyard... each one with a tatty wooden marker above it...
The search took hours... running around the graveyard in no particular pattern wasn't helping... but the ecstacy of the find was too strong now...
The stranger shouted... he had found it.
"Theralasa 'Angeleyes' MagCree." The stranger said. "This is him."
Grix pryed open the coffin with the spade... and inside lay a scroll...
The stranger felt in... and pulled out the scroll... he read it.
Grix expected the stranger to say something... about the scroll, perhaps to say what it meant?
The stranger began to walk away. Grix followed him...
"Hey?" Grix asked... "Is it alright?..." Grix looked at the stranger. He was rather pale. "Are you ok?"
"I don't believe it... it can't be true..."
Grix was stunned at the stranger's comments. "What is wrong!"
Suddenly, the old man stopped, and said something... "What, is the name on the grave on your left?"
Grix stopped... got to his knees, and read the grave name.
"It's... Grix Thraves. It's my name?!"
Grix turned around.
The preacher held the spade in his two arms. "Yes. I thought it was."
He brought the spade around, and smacked Grix across the head with it. Grix was knocked out...
The man moved Grix's body to the side of the grave... and began digging it up...
"It has to be done... it can't end... it has to be done... it can't end..."
The old man opened the empty coffin, and rolled Grix inside... and closed it.
He then proceeded to cover the coffin in sand.
He placed the spade over his shoulder... and walked out, only stopping to look back at Jake Dragons grave. He sighed, and walked out of the graveyard.
"Is this him?" Asked Grix.
"This grave is empty." Said the Stranger. "There is nothing down there..."
He stranger bent down and felt the sand covering the grave... rather a light colour...
"There WAS nothing down there... Dig it up."
Twenty minutes later, the grave was dug up. Grix pryed open the coffin... to find...
"Nothing."
The stranger looked inside.
"And there STILL is nothing down there. Just checking."
Grix looked at the stranger... not as infalible as he thought, after all.
---------------------
There were thousands of graves in the graveyard... each one with a tatty wooden marker above it...
The search took hours... running around the graveyard in no particular pattern wasn't helping... but the ecstacy of the find was too strong now...
The stranger shouted... he had found it.
"Theralasa 'Angeleyes' MagCree." The stranger said. "This is him."
Grix pryed open the coffin with the spade... and inside lay a scroll...
The stranger felt in... and pulled out the scroll... he read it.
Grix expected the stranger to say something... about the scroll, perhaps to say what it meant?
The stranger began to walk away. Grix followed him...
"Hey?" Grix asked... "Is it alright?..." Grix looked at the stranger. He was rather pale. "Are you ok?"
"I don't believe it... it can't be true..."
Grix was stunned at the stranger's comments. "What is wrong!"
Suddenly, the old man stopped, and said something... "What, is the name on the grave on your left?"
Grix stopped... got to his knees, and read the grave name.
"It's... Grix Thraves. It's my name?!"
Grix turned around.
The preacher held the spade in his two arms. "Yes. I thought it was."
He brought the spade around, and smacked Grix across the head with it. Grix was knocked out...
The man moved Grix's body to the side of the grave... and began digging it up...
"It has to be done... it can't end... it has to be done... it can't end..."
The old man opened the empty coffin, and rolled Grix inside... and closed it.
He then proceeded to cover the coffin in sand.
He placed the spade over his shoulder... and walked out, only stopping to look back at Jake Dragons grave. He sighed, and walked out of the graveyard.
Meka was confused. He was sure that he'd seen Jenny this morning, though she had completely blanked him.
Now he was stood here over a body that was almost certainly hers. The face was sickeningly unregongisable, but that little birthmark on her thigh could surely not be mistaken?
"Can I ask you boys to keep this under your hats for now?" asked Meke "I got a little business needs sorting."
Now he was stood here over a body that was almost certainly hers. The face was sickeningly unregongisable, but that little birthmark on her thigh could surely not be mistaken?
"Can I ask you boys to keep this under your hats for now?" asked Meke "I got a little business needs sorting."
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